


Oh Lawd He Comin'

by Shadowpingers



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blood, Canon Compliant, Combat, Dominant Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fighting, Gore, Insults, Magic, Oneshot, Other, Violence, WoL is an asshole and honestly who can blame him, msq, rhalgr's reach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowpingers/pseuds/Shadowpingers
Summary: Rhalgr's Reach is burning, and the Warrior of Light's fuckin' pissed. And everyone else just sorta goes along with it, because that's how it do in the MSQ, right?Zenos yae Galvus has other ideas. As usual.





	Oh Lawd He Comin'

**Author's Note:**

> My first WoL fic - it's about a male Miqote Red Mage with about as much personality as a hill of fire ants, please look forward to it!

The Warrior of Light was a brave man. Ever did he throw himself in the face of danger to protect those who could not fend for themselves, time and time again. But he was growing tired. Perhaps it was the searing heat of Gyr Abania drying out his lungs, chapped lips unable to protest whatever menial task Eorzea’s people demanded of him next. Or maybe it was the unwavering spirit of his comrades, Alphinaud’s endlessly optimistic chatter grating on his nerves as they traipsed about trying to win another leader’s trust. At least he did not have to suffer the bickering he’d endured in Coerthas between Lady Iceheart and Ser Estinien. The mere recollection sent shivers down his spine. Yet here he stood on the outskirts of Rhalgr’s Reach, the clamor of warfare ringing in his ears. Fire blazed high into the starless night sky and the ground shook at the arrival of magitek weaponry.

“We have to go, _now!_ ” Alphinaud squeezed his Obsidian Carbuncle close to his chest, once more assuming the position of Commander while everyone else stood motionless. Alisaie was speechless for once, eyes wide at the destruction being wrought just yalms from their shadowed hiding place. Pipin’s eyes were wide and glistening, the glowing sky reflected in his horrified stare.

“And I suppose you’re going to lead us?” The Warrior snapped, drawing an incredulous look from the gathered soldiers. Alphinaud merely lowered his head, snuggling his Carbuncle one last time.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, unable to meet the Warrior’s piercing gaze. “B-by your leave.”

The Warrior stood tall, shoulders rolled back and eyes to the sky. As a Red Mage, he had to be able to think quickly in the most dire of situations and so it was that he formulated a strategy.

“We go in and save who we can – that’s our first priority. Second, we find whoever’s leading the attack, and take them out.” His fluffy blonde ears twitched as Alisaie drew breath. _‘What now?’_ He flicked his tail in her direction, and bade her speak.

“What about Y’shtola? Krile, Lyse, they might have been taken hostage!”

The Warrior drew his rapier and the crystal that augmented its attacks, lip curled.

“What part about _save who we can_ did you not understand?” He shook his head and pointed his weapon towards the rocky pass. “With me. No more stupid questions.”

The twins exchanged worried looks. Ever stood the Warrior a silent force of authority, stoicism his hallmark response to just about anything. The tension in his shoulders bespoke volumes of stress heaped upon his soul, aethers in turmoil from a struggle none could place. Alphinaud decided to wisely keep his mouth shut, and follow the Warrior’s lead from a safe distance. A safe _casting_ distance, of course – the man would never harm his friends. Not after all they’d been through together.

The fragmented Scions came with their uniformed allies just in time to see what had become of Rhalgyr’s Reach. Broken bodies of half the settlement lay scattered in pools of blood, piss, shit and oil, while discarded weapons poked out of places they really shouldn’t. Ash scorched the ground from magitek cannonfire, with bomb shrapnel scattered as far as the eye could see. And still the fighting continued, arrows and bullets flying through the air along with screaming, crying and curses.

The Reach never stood a chance.

“It… it’s a massacre…!” Alisaie whispered, unable to look away from the carnage.

“And it’s about to get a whole lot bloodier.” The Warrior growled, baring his fangs at the imperial soldiers running their way. “Take care of this lot. I’m going for the head.” He dashed through the line of oncoming foes before anyone could stop him, and was gone in a flutter of cloak and fur.

He met with Fordola some five minutes later, encircled by a host of her bloodthirsty allies. The Skulls were not to be trifled with, yet the Warrior dared call down unholy thunder upon them with a few hasty hand gestures. Fordola took one look at him as her allies crumpled to the ground, boiled alive in their armor, and drew her sword.

“Oh, you want some too?” The Warrior sneered, binding her with a magical tether before she could close the distance between them. “I’ll deal with you in a bit. Where’s your master, girl? Or will you have me believe you orchestrated this entire attack by yourself?”

Fordola struggled to no avail, legs firmly stuck in place. “Rrgh! I’ll tell you nothing, you-”

“Yes,” the Warrior intoned with a raised finger, “You will.” He curved his finger inwards and flames licked at Fordola’s ankles, eating away at her skin. She screamed and screamed, thrashing in her bindings until her knees hit the ground and bled. The Warrior stepped closer, watching her writhe under his fiery ministrations. Long had he suffered the taunts of overconfident foes, and it was the youths he despised the most as they teased him while dancing out of reach. Misguided fools, the lot of them, with no place being in any positions of power at all. It was hard enough to stay his blade from gutting Alphinaud at the best of times, and now he could unleash his fury upon yet another cocky teen who thought herself powerful, skilled, _worthy._

As Fordola slowly burned to death, the Warrior grew aware of a heavy, thumping rhythm. For once it wasn’t his own heartbeat pounding in his ears and in fact a new enemy, one of impressively large stature. Taller than any Roegadyn or Au’ra he’d yet seen, this man stood at eight fulms in height with such a broad frame it almost seemed unnatural. The Warrior stared at him from the corner of his eye, turning fully to face Zenos yae Galvus, Imperial Viceroy of Ala Mhigo. He blinked.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Zenos squinted from within his horned helm, failing to recall having ever seen this foul-mouthed Mi’qote anywhere in his life.

“I could ask you the same, boy.” He found it hard to believe that this five and a half fulm cat could have bested Fordola, a swordswoman without peer. Well, almost. He himself could cut her down in an instant, and now glanced to her squirming body. “Awfully cruel fate.”

The Warrior hissed. “Don’t care. And looking at you, I’ll bet you’re the Master come to save his little lapdog, eh?”

A hidden smirk graced Zenos’s shapely lips. “Oh, I like you already.” he purred, taking a few slow steps closer. “Why don’t you tell me who you are, so I know where to send your corpse?”

The Warrior rolled his eyes. He’d heard speeches like this before, and wasn’t in the mood to suffer any more from these blasted Imperials. “Shut up, you fat fuck. Get over here and fight me so we can get this over and done with.” He pointed his rapier at Zenos’s armored crotch, slit pupils dilating to better focus in the dark. Had it always been this dark, with all the fires and spells raging around the place? No, just moments ago he could see perfectly fine with his eyes half open. Then he saw it. A leeching, black aura seeping from beneath Zenos’s helm.

“I beg your pardon?” Zenos’s voice was thin, incredulous. “I-” Before he could finish, the Warrior aimed a bolt of lightning at his feet. It dissipated harmlessly after illuminating the man’s hulking form, which began to shift step by step towards his foe. Sheer intimidation gave pause to the Warrior of Light, who watched Zenos stride forth at a painfully slow pace. His armor was so thick that he could barely move in it – otherwise, what was he doing crawling forwards like that in the middle of battle?

 _‘I… should make this quick. Don’t like the look of this bastard one bit.’_ The Warrior took a few steps back and readied a spell, but Zenos abruptly drew a blade from the revolver at his hip and slashed through the air, breaking his focus. Before he knew it he lay on the ground, chest seizing with contractions. Energy crackled around his body like a cage that only grew tighter, squeezing until he managed to dispel it through sheer force of will. He leapt to his feet, limbs tingling unpleasantly.

“What the hell was that?!”

Zenos did not answer, and swung his sword through the air. Ever onwards he advanced on the Warrior’s position, staring him down through the black pits of his eyes. What sort of man lurked beneath that ornate helmet, with such incredible swordsmanship and luxurious blonde hair? Was it the Emperor himself, come to claim Rhalgyr’s reach and all its inhabitants for dead?

“You better not be screwing with me! I don’t have time for this!” The Warrior barked out a hateful lick of black magic that literally bounced off Zenos’s armor, along with the torrent of spells that followed. “Rrrgh!”

Magical wards, on a Garlean? It’s more likely than you think. The Warrior ran to one side and Zenos turned, not giving him a moment’s pause to attack his blind spot. If he even had any. Like an omniescent god this man moved, slow and deliberate towards the Warrior of Light. And when he raised his sword again, it came slicing down the Warrior’s chest, breaking on Hydaelyn’s last defense for her champion. The Warrior hit the ground with a breathless gasp, rapier and crystal flung from his fingers. His entire body ached, white-hot agony tingling through every fiber of his being.

“Pathetic.” Zenos loomed over him, voice completely devoid of emotion.

The world went dark.

**Author's Note:**

> and then zenos steals WoL to study their echo in a lab or something and it's realllllll spooky
> 
> thx for reading lmao pls no flame


End file.
